


And We Could Be Enough

by crazychloe08



Series: there's snakes in the garden [2]
Category: 17th Century CE RPF, 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: (cause im doing a lot of research here and still taking artistic license please forgive me), Bad French Translations, Blood and Violence, Canon Era, F/M, Halemadge, Historical Accuracy, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical Lams, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, Tallster, cause its the amrev war people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29853111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazychloe08/pseuds/crazychloe08
Summary: A study of the relationship of Benjamin Tallmadge and Caleb Brewster from pre season one of Turn and ending post season four finale because we all know they weren't just "best friends"
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & Benjamin Tallmadge, Alexander Hamilton & John Laurens & Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Anna Strong & Benjamin Tallmadge, Benjamin Tallmadge & Abraham Woodhull, Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge, George Washington/Martha Washington, John Laurens & Benjamin Tallmadge, Nathan Hale (1755-1776)/Benjamin Tallmadge, Sarah Livingston (Turn)/Benjamin Tallmadge
Series: there's snakes in the garden [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181075
Comments: 8
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! In early Feb I binged Turn in a week and have become super hyper fixated on it and abruptly adore the show with all my heart. I just love Caleb and Ben's relationship and the way they are portrayed is very similar and almost paralleled Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens' relationship (which is my OTP, ya'll know that by now). 
> 
> So I wrote this and decided to model it off of your run 'o the mill historical lams fic, but make it tallster style so enjoy!

_Continental Army Encampment_

_New York City, New York_

_June 20th--August 30th, 1776_

_\----------------------------------_

Benjamin Tallmadge supposes there are seldom moments in life when the world seems to melt away, and the only thing truly mattering at this moment would be the thing in front of you, filling you with pure euphoria, coming and going as quickly as it came. 

This is how he tries to recall the feeling as his eyes wander across camp, past erect tents, men shuffling about, soldiers rotating their shifts, and lay eyes on a man he hadn’t seen since his leaving for college. 

Yet, this was no ordinary man. It was a man that seemed to radiate restless energy from him, stirring up action and pumping adrenaline into those around him. This was a man that Tallmadge didn’t know how much he missed until this moment. 

At first, Tallmadge was stunned. He stopped in his tracks, staring at the man, talking to some other man, using wild hand gestures, and then tipping his wide-brimmed hat in farewell.

Before Tallmadge could move, he turned around, surveying the area, and then eyes catching on Tallmadge, deep brown locking with clear blue and-

“Ben!” he shouted, his rasp deeper than Tallmadge’s memory had preserved, but the jolly tone and grin was the same as he broke into a run, barreling into Tallmadge and embracing him.

Not to his surprise, Tallmadge grasped him back, feeling his own smile break out across his cheeks. 

“Caleb?!” Tallmadge laughed, basking in that moment of undiluted elation. They broke apart as Celeb's eyes, twinkling with mirth, roved over Tallmadge’s body.

“What are you doing here?” Tallmadge asked, also taking in his childhood friend. 

“What am I doing here? I’ve been here since the spring Benny-boy, the real question is, what are _you_ doing here?” Tallmadge looked down, his smile growing more boyish, more proud as he felt himself standing up straighter. 

“I’ve enlisted, and been offered a position in Col. Chester’s regiment of the Connecticut Militia” Caleb whistled through his teeth.

“Heard about that opening for Lieutenant, didn’t think ol’ principal Tallmadge would come down from Connecticut and join the action” Tallmadge lightly punched Caleb on the shoulder, earning a chuckle. 

“Have to admit” Caleb took a step back, smirking.

“That uniform does look mighty fine on you. Maybe let you borrow some of my ladies for how good you look” Tallmadge rolled his eyes, fighting a blush and cursing his fair complexion.

“Your one to talk with that ridiculous hat” his chin jerked up, nodding at the wide-brimmed hat sitting on Caleb’s wiry chestnut hair. Caleb feigned mock hurt and stroked the edge of the brim

“Don’t listen to him, beautiful” Tallmadge let look a laugh as he nudged Caleb, their old dynamic returning as they had never left each other.

He had at first been quite hesitant to join the army, his military friends slowly convincing him to join, but his position as a superintendent holding him back. 

But after the events of Bunkerhill followed through, Tallmadge knew he could not sit back and watch. He needed to join the fray and fight, so he approached Chester if the position he had offered was still available and was commissioned days later and settled into encampment. 

It had only been a few days at camp, adjusting to the stiff uniform, early wake-up calls, sleeping in a tent, and wishing for the comforts of home, but as Caleb threw his arm around Tallmadge, beaming up at him, Tallmadge supposed that home had found its way into the army. 

It seemed as though nothing had changed between them through their years of separation; however, everything around them had. 

\--------

The next couple of weeks was filled with early mornings of training, afternoons spent with Caleb, and nights of relentless heat. 

He gets used to encampment life, but pride and thrill always shoot down his spine whenever someone addresses him as _Lieutenant Colonel_. 

It is like his commission shows he is actually making a difference, just like every other honorable man. 

Before the month of June ended, British fleet, under the command of Admiral Shuldam and General Howe’s army had left Boston and marched to Halifax. General Washington anticipated meeting the army in New York City, and Tallmadge marched with the army for the first time. 

It was not a pleasurable experience for the body--marching through the sweltering sun, carrying arms and uniform, feet aching and body sore, but Tallmadge found himself grinning like a cat as he finally felt like he belonged here. 

Tallmadge became acquainted with many of the other militiamen in his regiment throughout this time, and they made it clear of his welcome, but Tallmadge’s focus was solely devoted to his training. 

He always had been a quick study with a thirst for knowledge, but after the first days of learning how to properly dress and fire a musket, swing a bayonet and sword, Tallmadge was utterly intrigued in becoming a skilled soldier.

He waited patiently should the opportunity for command arise and made himself ready day or night to undergo any service that was required.

Tallmadge had no interest in comradery when people’s lives were at stake, just like his first months in college, he quickly was seen as guarded off and unsociable. This distance was not a reflection of a cold personality, but dedication and excitement to learn everything possible about the military and combat, and perfect it as best to his ability. 

Well, that didn’t stop Caleb from prying Tallmadge away and giving him a taste of fun.

It reminded the days in his adolescence when they would spend their days ardently frisking in their hometown, Setauket. 

He and Caleb would spend their time, coats discarded in the heat and hair askew, trading stories of their time apart. 

Caleb’s stories being much more exciting as a former minute man and then merchant that traded all the way to Greenland, but Caleb seemed mildly interested in Tallmadge’s escapades at Yale. Especially those nights when he and Nathan would drown themselves in alcohol and proceed to drunkenly debate everyone, always ending in a fistfight. 

“Nathan?” Caleb asked one night when Tallmadge had first mentioned Nathan.

“Who’s Nathan?” Tallmadge stopped and turned the warm coin over in his hand. Who was Nathan? 

Arguably his best friend. 

But after that one reckless night… 

“Nathan Hale, A friend from Yale” he stiffly replied, shooting his coin into the cup, and narrowly missing, the metal bouncing off the rim and onto the floor of Celab’s tent. 

“Hale?” Tallmadge hummed in response

“He’s part of the Connecticut militia, right?” Tallmadge raised an eyebrow as Caleb scored, marking it down on a spare sheet of parchment.

“Aye. Enlisted around this time last year” Last year. He could almost bitterly laugh. It had been almost a full year since their last night. Tallmadge had received little communication from Nathan since then, mostly short letters of greeting and asking about his welfare and alluding to their time together in Yale. To be honest, Tallmadge hadn’t written Nathan any lengthy letter either.

“He was around in camp for a while, actually, was sent to Boston for the siege” Tallmadge hummed again, already knowing this. Many detachments and regiments of militia and battalions had been sent to aid in the goal to starve out the British in Boston since the spring of 1775. 

“I met him in passing, and when I told him my name his face lit up and started blabbering about you” Tallmadge’s head shot up and stared at Caleb. He could imagine it though, Nathan shaking hands with Caleb, recollecting what Tallmadge had told him about his childhood.

It was still surprising for Tallmadge. It was like two separate eras of his life colliding. Two of the most important people from each era meeting. 

If he could compare the bizarreness to anyone, it would be like seeing the Lord of all the Greek Gods and King of Olympus, meeting the Lord, our Savior, Jesus Christ. 

“What did he say?” Tallmadge tried to sound casual, but the curiosity was eating him.

“Well, I said my name and he introduced himself and then asked me if I was from Setauket and if I knew Benjamin Tallmadge. I answered ‘Aye, he was one of the lads I grew up with, you could say he’s my brother’ and his face lights up and starts asking me if I had heard from you, saying that he’s your _best friend_ and it was an honor to finally meet me after hearing about me in so many of your stories” Caleb chuckles as Tallmadge swallows. The way he enunciated ‘ _best friend’_ would make Tallmadge wonder… 

“What did you make of him?” Tallmadge finally asks, feeling his ears start to burn with a blush.

“He seemed like a smart lad, good, strong, honorable, and willing to fight for the cause” For some reason Tallmadge let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

Why did he care so much about what Caleb thought of Nathan?

“Willing to die too” Tallmadge retorts dryly, rolling his eyes as metal clinks against metal.

“Nice one Tall-Boy, you and Hale seemed really close from what I gather, why not enlist with him?” Caleb side-eyes him as Tallmadge marks down a number, his eyes burning a hole into the papers as he tries to cool his blush. 

“Tall-Boy? Really? No one’s called me that stupid nickname in years” Tallmadge changes the subject, weakly smiling and attempting to defuse the tension. Caleb smirk and leans back.

“Really? I had hoped some girl had called you tall, and I’m not just talking about your height” Tallmadge chokes on his own spit at the crude joke, a dark blush growing behind his ears but he nudges Caleb’s shoulder playfully silently thanking him for not asking any more questions. It had always been that way with Caleb. 

He would respect your boundaries and honor your wishes, remaining loyal in the most trying times.

Tallmadge supposes that is what he missed most about his childhood friend.

\--------

More days fly by as the American army is assembled in New York, and the British fleet is discovered in the Hook along with the arrival of twenty-five thousand men under the command of Sir William Howe. 

Battle was approaching and Tallmadge could feel the anticipation throughout the camp. 

It came in subtle changes like soldiers' restlessness and officers whispering behind closed doors. 

For Tallmadge, he could feel something buzzing inside of him like a cat kneeled over in the grass and waiting to pounce on the mouse. 

General George Washington had also arrived at camp from Boston, which made the men stand a little taller and clean up their sloppy forms. 

Tallmadge could often see the General’s shadow pacing in his tent, or taking walks in the night, his looming figure and swishing cloak. 

He had extreme respect for the man, his presence a study rock in the army, and his mind like steel. 

And then it was July fourth and celebration thundered through the camp. 

Amid these celebrations, Tallmadge had found time to write Nathan and his joining of the army. He sat in his tent for a long time, pen hovering above blank paper unsure of what to say, and how to say it, but after the first initial sentences, words poured out of him naturally. 

It was almost as if Nathan was next to him, coaxing each sentence out of him. 

He encouraged Nathan to accept commission and leave behind his teaching contract. As much as they both shared a strong passion for education and teaching, the cause was noble and there was no greater honor than fighting for your country. 

Tallmadge reminded Nathan of that. 

With a flourish of a signature, Tallmadge sealed the letter, feeling the letter and his thick words inside. 

Perhaps he would run into Nathan in the army and-

Another cheer sounded from outside breaking Tallmadge’s thoughts. 

The Declaration of Independence had been signed and adopted by the Continental Congress, officially declaring freedom from Great Britain and the King that day. 

Celebrations racked through encampment as cannons were shot, men cheered and spirits were renewed with a newfound motivation. 

Tallmadge drank with Caleb watching men dance around a bonfire and George Washington looked over them with a twinkle in his stoic eyes. 

Tallmadge let himself loose in the celebrations, laughing with the other men and cheering. He sat close to Caleb, shoulder touching and watching the shorter man bark with laughter, the brim of his wide-mouthed hat dipping, shadows flitting across his face and illuminating his eyes, dancing with mirth. 

It grew late, and the summer heat cooled so that the men started stumbling back to their tents under the watchful eyes of General Washington, still surveying them, murmuring in soft conversation with his aide de camps. 

Tallmadge had wanted to be an aide de camp once. Being the quills of greatness and writing your General’s correspondences--basically being the first to know everything. 

Tallmadge had always loved the art of writing, reading, and strategies, but as battle tornadoed through the colonies, he found a fire burning inside himself, a fire that urged him to fight, not just with pen and paper, but with sword and musket. 

His father always did say his level-headedness under pressure and impulsive anger in a debate would be keen on the battlefield. 

His brother William, Will, had always been a fighter. One that threw himself into any brawl he could, using his fists all the way into a British Prison. 

He, Benjamin, Ben, was the quieter brother, not impassionate but quieter. However, when roused, he had cold fury which could turn into blazing hot anger and usually ended in his fists. 

In his defense, he fiercely fought for what and who he believed in, his loyalty never wavering. 

He was an innocent, studious child at first glance, but his friends knew of his roaring passion and stubborn beliefs. 

“Raise a glass to freedom” Caleb mumbled into his drink, the crowd dissipating and the hour growing quite late. Tallmadge grimaced as he stood, feeling the drink settling in, creating a hazy fog around his brain. 

“Come on, let’s get you back to your tent” Tallmadge helped Caleb to his feet, both swaying and leaning against each other. 

Caleb murmured drunken things into Tallmadge's shoulder as they staggered into Caleb’s small tent, one he bought before the war and often used to camp outside a dock in his days on the water. 

Tallmadge hauled the smaller man (but with the drink, much heavier and laden) onto the small cot with few scraggly blankets. 

“Yeh looks mighty fine in that uniform Benny,” Caleb said as Tallmadge plucked the hat off his head. Tallmadge rolled his eyes as he pulled Caleb’s boots off. 

“Why haven’t we gotten you a girl yet mm?” Tallmadge raised an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of the cot to undo Caleb’s coat buttons, discarding the worn leather to the floor. 

“You’re drunk Caleb, so shut up” Tallmadge huffed, throwing the tattered blanket over Caleb. Tallmadge stood up, intending to retire back to his own tent, but he found his head spinning and the world tilting, a blur of colors. 

“Ha” a rasping laugh behind him cackled, “Yer just as bad as me” Caleb’s words were slurring together as he beckoned toward Tallmadge. 

“Yer not gonna make it back to yer tent, so just c’mere” Tallmadge pursed his lips, trying to find his center and coherent thoughts. 

He tried to find an excuse or objection, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out as his body screamed with exhaustion. 

Being drunk was an excuse to make bad choices, or do un-gentlemanly things. 

Besides, this was _Caleb._ His _childhood best friend_. 

With a sigh, he stripped off his cravat, waistcoat, and down to his breeches and shirt and tumbled into bed next to Caleb. 

He expected Caleb to roll over, but as he settled in, Caleb threw an arm around Tallmadge’s waist, pulling him closer. 

“Mmm warm n its cold '' Caleb mumbled as his breathing evened out and eyelids fluttered shut. 

In his right mental state, Tallmadge might have gently shimmied away, rolling his eyes, for they were not boys anymore that could get away with these types of affection as brotherhood. 

But his intoxicated mind found it nice to feel Caleb and his warmth, so as he drifted off, he felt safe and secure. 

Tallmadge woke up the next morning, inhaling the scent of salt and warm wind and then jerking awake, realizing he was not in his own tent. 

Blearily, Tallmadge found himself curled up next to a snoring Caleb, the rays of morning sun beaming through the thin tent. 

With a groan, Tallmadge carefully shimmied out of the cot and dressed in the clothes haphazardly discarded on the floor, and now wrinkled. 

With a sigh he opened the tent flap, Caleb still snoring and-

“Is it morn already?” Caleb mumbled, his rasp rumbling through his chest, eyes blearily blinking up at Tallmadge. 

Tallmadge couldn’t help but look fondly upon the sight, Caleb’s form curled beneath the small blankets, stretching and moving as one does when their body finally catches up with their awoken brain. 

“Get up too quickly and worsen the headache” Tallmadge warned, lightly shifting his weight and fending off his own drumbeat, clearing a path in his skull. 

“You be better off staying in bed all day with the sheer amount of drink you inhaled last night” Tallmadge scoffed in mock jest. He ducked under the tent flap, sweeping away and leaving behind a few murmured curses as Tallmadge supposed was Caleb attempting to rouse. 

The sun hit his face brutally and Tallmadge winced, the light going straight through his skull. 

‘Twas going to be a long morning of training. 

\--------

Sunny July faded into August and August was days away from changing into September as movements of the enemy indicated their approaching of New York by the way of Long Island. 

So, the camp was bustling with orders and the men with newfound tasks. The clanking of weapons and the shouts of orders filled the musky air as many prepared to march across the East River at Brooklyn. 

Ten thousand men, by the order of General Washington, as well as Tallmadge’s regiment made the journey, being one of the first to cross over. 

Marching with the army in the summer was a brutal experience as the men were soaked in their own sweat, swatting away bugs and hauling weaponry across the river. 

Tallmadge’s first battle loomed closer and closer as both armies approached the west side of Long Island. 

The next few nights were spent restless as the army waited for the inevitable clash with the British and their troops, almost triple of what the Continentals supplied. 

_“British General Howe’s got troops on the water. Thirty-two thousand troops in New York Harbour! They surround our troops!”_ Whispers from the townsfolk and lower officers spread, creating a pounding in Tallmadge’s heart. 

He would fight, never retreat from the threats of battle, but it was an odd sensation to know that the men around you would cease to live in a few hours' time. 

Morning came quickly and Tallmadge found himself thrust onto the battlefield, the moments before now a blur in his mind, and several years later, he will find he cannot recall the details before the bloodshed. He was sure Caleb wished him luck, but voices were just an echo. 

His mind was reeling as he marched with his regiment toward the oncoming enemy troops, every thought swirling around and screaming at him. 

Tallmadge swayed on his feet as the first shot was made and both troops charged. 

He pulled himself upright and hardened his face, calming his fluttering pulse and forced his jelly legs to move. 

So now, he, Benjamin Tallmadge, the former superintendent, and son of a reverend, was running onto the battlefield, the sounds of muskets firing, horses screaming and men shouting filling the air, along with a musky smell of gunpowder and blood. 

He supposed the atmosphere should have put him more at unease, shaken him a bit, make him more nervous as men were cut down around him, but for some reason when the first redcoat flew at him, his senses zeroed in, and something in his brain clicked, like focusing a looking glass. 

The noise around him faded into a dull thrum, and his breathing filled his head. Time seemed to slow as the soldier swiped at him with a bayonet. 

With as much grace as a dancer, Tallmadge ducked and easily thrust his sword into the man’s chest. 

His senses came back to him as the redcoat gave a bloody gurgle and fell to the ground. 

He, Benjamin Tallmadge, the former superintendent and son of a reverend, a graduate of Yale, Lieutenant in the Continental Army, had just taken his first human life. 

Tallmadge supposed he should feel something, but his senses were dialed to eleven again as more enemies rushed at him. 

He cut down man after man, his blood singing and body thrumming with life as he took another. 

He should be disappointed, disgusted by the bloodshed and the sins he committed as he gleefully killed soldier after soldier, but that was a side of him that was washed away, the tide carrying it out to sea, never to return. 

And in return, he finally stepped into a soldier's place.

\--------

The continental troops were overwhelmed by the British forces, by their size, but also by their discipline. 

The redcoats moved with practiced precision and order as they killed like a gentleman, whether the continentals were ruthless dogs as they tore into meat. 

The British dwarfed their numbers and could not hold off the sheer force of the enemy, so the main body of their troops retreated behind the lines at Brooklyn while Long Island Militia stood out the bloodshed at Jamaica. 

It was-

Tallmadge could not describe the sinking feeling as the Continentals were forced back, three Generals captured and the army was thrown into chaos. 

On retreat, Major General Sullivan and Lord Stirling, both in detached bodies, were captured in their retreat. 

Thank the Lord, Tallmadge made it safely with most of his regiment to their entrenchment west of East Mills, flanked by redoubts 

As he caught his breath and replayed the scenes in his mind, the awfulness crept in. 

He had taken a human life. Human lives that had families, accomplishments, personalities… 

_“You think too much Damon. Think after it's over and keep your level headed mind cool until you have a moment to yourself”_

Nathan’s voice filled his head amongst the fading buzz of adrenaline. 

Two days. 

Two days, Tallmadge and his regiment hid in the shallow trenches, waiting for a British general to find them and decimate them. 

Two days of fear, suspense, and heavy rain pounding on them. 

On the twenty-ninth of August, a familiar shout echoed toward them atop a chestnut horse. 

Caleb rode frantically toward them bringing news of General Washington and his command to move the troops from Brooklyn, back to New York. 

Tallmadge gaped at the news, to cross back over to New York would mean facing vicious waters with fatigued and exhausted troops. 

“British blasted us fair and square Ben, we need to get behind our own lines before they find us again” Caleb had said, giving Tallmadge a hearty hug at sight. 

“You look pretty good for your first time” Caleb scanned Tallmadge, most likely for injuries, making a blush crawl down his back. 

The journey back resulted in nothing but exhaustion and anxiety as Washington kept the regiments on watch duty. 

Tallmadge’s eyes drooped, his body aching and begging for rest, but when he had the chance to sleep, it seemed that his mind was ablaze and whirring and unable to shut down. 

They arrived at the ferry and then were turned back to the trenches, putting the men in a sour mood. 

Actual cheers sounded in the trench when Colonel Chester announced they had been given the order to retire. 

With his body sagging from tiredness, Tallmadge finally collapsed in his tent, the reality setting into his mind and digesting the past day’s events. 

He furrowed his eyebrows as the sound of screaming horses and men filled his ears and could almost feel wet, warm blood on his face. 

His eyes clicked open. He could not sleep like this. 

He needed a drink. 

Tallmadge stretched as he got up, lazily throwing on a coat, stepping into his boots, and with an aching back trudged out of his tent into the night. 

The camp smelled of the dead and freshly dug-up dirt. Tallmadge crinkled his nose. 

A scream echoed from one of the medical tents. 

So many wounded and dying. So many dead. 

Tallmadge quickly turned on his heel finding the familiar, wrinkled tent, and ducked under the canvas. 

Caleb sat on his cot, unlacing his boots, hat discarded, and huffing. 

“Ben!” his eyes lit as Tallmadge entered the small tent. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tallmadge sighed and sat down next to Caleb nodding. 

“I need something to drink” Caleb grunted in agreement as he stood up, rummaging through a satchel and producing a flask. 

“You alright?” Tallmadge took the flask and gulped down the burning liquid. It helped a little, dulling the sharp edge and replacing his blood-soaked vision and the moans of dying men fade away into the sounds of cricket chips. 

Surviving was easy.

Living? That was harder. 

Tallmadge supposes he couldn't speak though for the men around him were veterans to much bloodier battles, so for him to open his mouth and complain would be an insult to the others. 

He closed his eyes, the feeling of triumph and satisfaction crawling over him and then being washed away by shame. Not shame of the kill, but the guilt of the lack of shame. Taking the lives of British soldiers was easy, and many joked about wanting redcoat blood, for certainly every Patriot thirsted for revenge and freedom, but the way Tallmadge was taught? 

The way he saw the world? He took a long sip, the voice in his head muffling slightly, and then answered after a pause

“‘M fine” Tallmadge murmured, blinking away a bloodied battlefield. Caleb sighed and clapped Tallmadge on his shoulder, his hand firm, yet reassuring. 

“You're not a coward Ben" Tallmadge's head snapped up, "What I mean is that every solider's first battle is the hardest. It doesn't get easier, but” Caleb took the flask from Tallmadge and gulped down the liquid

"You get used to it" When Tallmadge didn’t answer Caleb turned to face him, his dark eyes unyielding and calm. 

“Look, Ben, I know you and that look and can practically hear your brain screaming at you, what’s going on up there?” Caleb said more softly this time. 

“Getting into fistfights is one thing, but real battle” Tallmadge struggled with his words and took another swing of the drink. 

“Is it a shame? In taking another life?” Caleb prodded and Tallmadge let out a deep sigh through his nose. 

He should talk. It would do him some good. 

Would Caleb judge him? 

_Never_. 

“No” he slowly said, rolling the word over on his tongue. 

“The shame of _liking it_ ” He spat out the words like a sour taste. Caleb dragged a hand through his messy hair. 

“And every time I close my eyes I can see myself _there_ and not hesitating to-” He pursed his lips and shook his head. 

“I am a reverend’s son for Christ’s sake, I shouldn’t, I-” He drank again, the alcohol fusing with his emotions, slowly taking away the edge and loosening his body. 

Caleb nodded and Tallmadge knew he understood, 

“From what I heard from the others, you were magnificent out there Tall-Boy” Caleb cocked his head and gave a wry grin. 

“Alright Brewster” Tallmadge returned the smirk, tilting his own head. 

“Go on, spit it out” Caleb’s eyebrows creased. 

“Pardon?” Tallmadge let out a dry chuckle.

“As you said, I know you. You” he poked Caleb’s shoulder. “Are keeping something from me, something to tell me, I know that look” Caleb feigned innocence, raising his eyebrow. 

Tallmadge mocked insult and nudged Caleb’s shoulder

“Go on then, tell me” Caleb bit his lip and Tallmadge felt his smile shrink a bit at Caleb’s pensive face.

“I told you what’s on my mind, that’s the penny for your thoughts, go on _Sir_ ” Tallmadge added the sir on for good measure. Out of their childhood friend quartet, Tallmadge had never felt the need to be formal. 

They grew up with each other, so there was no sense to act like a gentleman around the people he considered siblings. 

But when he entered Yale he entered gentleman’s society for those few fleeting years, social climbing and enjoying every minute of it. 

He had always been the gentleman out of the quartet. The blushing virgin, innocent, wickedly intelligent, but also burning with cold passion. 

He protected his friends at all costs, upholding their honor and making sure no one crossed them. 

And the most gratifying feelings came as the other boy limped out of the church after Sunday service with a black eye and bruised ribs and the other mothers whispering _How did a sweet boy like little Ben Tallmadge do that?_

Some of his best childhood memories came from Anna Strong bandaging his wounds as Caleb and Abe Woodhull reenacted his feats of bravery. 

“Ben,” Caleb said quietly, reaching in his pocket and producing a white letter. Tallmadge stilled as his friends’ slumped shoulders and defeated eyes. 

“I- I wasn’t going to tell you this now, but-” a sigh and then, “You have a right to know” He handed Tallmadge the letter, dread creeping up his spine as he broke the seal. 

_Benjamin Tallmadge,_

_I regret to inform you of William Tallmadge’s capture at Long Island during battle. He is now a prisoner of war in New Jersey._

_Condolences,_

_General G. Washington, Commander in Chief of the Continental Army_

It was the standard letter General Washington’s aides copied, swapping out the name of victim, but as Tallmadge’s eyes scanned the short letter, he literally felt his heart dropped. 

“He’s alive right?” he heard himself say, almost too calm. 

“He’s still alive, right? He’ll make it through this until the next exchange?” No answer

“Caleb, he’s alive and will make it until the next exchange?” He turned toward Caleb that met his eyes with sorrow. 

“There’s no telling Ben, I’m sorry” Tallmadge pursed his lips, his pulse beating in his ears. William. Willy. Will. 

From what he knew, very few survived the prisoner ships in Jersey. Some due to disease, wound, overexertion, exhaustion, thirst, dietary-

The list would go on. 

“Oh _God_ ” Tallmadge murmured, his brother flashing before his eyes, bloodied from battle, perhaps wounded or even _shot_ , being loaded onto a ship with the only sea for miles and miles with dirty men, forced to work day and night with little food and water and no bath. 

“I’m sorry Ben, I truly am,” Caleb said again, tentatively touching Tallmadge’s shoulder. 

It was all too soon. Too much. A spray of hot blood streaked across Tallmadge’s memory as he held in a gasp. 

As Caleb began to pull away, Tallmadge hung on pulling himself onto Caleb’s shoulder and let himself be held. 

Just for a moment, he could be Ben from Setauket, the fierce but sensitive boy that loved all things. 

Could let go of the parts of himself that grew up too fast: the over-eager Yale graduate, drunken debater, young school teacher, the Damon to Pythias. Here, with Caleb he could just be Ben. 

The Ben that loved his family, his friends, his _brother_. 

After this, he decided, the boy no longer existed, and from the blood, death, grief, and war arose Lieutenant Benjamin Tallmadge. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise of a return to you, for my sentiments were made clear and I swear that I shall not abandon you, ever, my dear Damon.
> 
> aka I hurt everyone and I'm (not)sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ......You might want to pull out those tissues now.....

_ Continental Army Encampment _

_ Manhattan, New York _

_ September 1st--22nd 1776 _

_ \------------------------------ _

The British army seemed adamant to chase the Continentals out of New York City as they began to move up the island to Hurl Gate, in pursuit to cut off the retreat of the troops from New York. 

The peaceful tranquility of the camp quickly transitioned into a flurry of shouts and the smell of the dead. 

Tallmadge had received his first station at Turtle Bay on New York Island. After the disaster at Long Island, he was eager to accept the post and out of the gaze of Caleb’s worry. 

Caleb always compared him to a mother hen, always clucking after her chicks (Caleb, Anna, and Abe) with brows pinched in worry. 

In reality, Tallmadge saw Caleb as the mother hen, seven years senior to him and always pestering him like

_ “Ben did you eat lunch today?”  _ or  _ “How many hours of sleep did you get last night?”  _ and  _ “Don’t try to pull stunts like that again Tallboy” _

Tallmadge did have a tendency to worry over his friends, but it seemed that Caleb always had one eye on him. 

So now he was, crouched behind the redoubt, firing his musket and then flattening themselves against the dirt wall to reload along with other men in dirty uniforms. 

Since the disastrous retreat at Long Island Tallmadge had failed to scrub the blood out of his cravat, a light stain darkening the once pure fabric. 

Warmblood coated his face from an arterial spray and he was sure his hair was matted with dirt too. 

“They're firing their frigate!” someone shouted, the boat in the bay rotating to face their redoubt and then-

Fire rained from the East river sending the men scattering to avoid the incoming hits and creating chaos. Tallmadge grit his teeth and rolls in the dirt, narrowly missing a blast.

“We need to fire back!” he roared diving behind a wheel. 

A wheel?

Tallmadge looked up as he crouched behind a battery. 

It was small, probably only fifteen or eighteen pounds but it had plenty of ammunition but they couldn’t just lie here and wait for the British to finish them off.

Might as well go down  _ attempting _ to fight back. 

A man dove down beside him, almost toppling Tallmadge over with a yell. 

“The battery!” he yelled, his voice hoarse. 

“Aye!” Tallmadge answered as they locked eyes and then dodging the incoming fire, they both sprung up together, steering the gun toward the frigate, Tallmadge aiming while the other man fired. 

The machine thrummed and then jolted as it landed its target, straightforward. 

With hellfire raining upon them, Tallmadge and the other soldier pounded the frigate, hit after hit, men falling around them, their bodies slack and heavy, some going down with a shout, others convulsing with screams on the dirt floor. 

Another blast from their battery sounded and Tallmadge prepared to reload when the steady blasts from the frigate quieted. 

“Look!” the soldier pointed toward the ship and men running about yelling for--

Their battery had dismantled the frigate's cables. 

Something inside Tallmadge breathed as their men started to assemble their muskets again, evening out the field as the British continued firing their firearms upon the redoubts. 

Tallmadge gave a wry smile to the soldier beside him

“Lieutenant Benjamin Tallmadge” he nodded. 

“Private Charles Davis be at your service Lieutenant” Davis lazily saluted

“I thank you for your assistance Private Davis, I doubt I could have done this without your help” Tallmadge wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead watching the British retaliate, their frigate turning-

_ Christ! They had fixed their cables! _

“Get down!” Tallmadge screamed as the frigate powered up creating pandemonium and throwing men to the ground.

Their redoubt strained to retaliate, but when the frigate dismounted the continental's guns, they were forced to retreat. 

Tallmadge forced himself to not look back at the bloodied, splayed bodies left behind in the dirt. 

Life in the army was fast-paced, quick, and unexpected, so as Tallmadge had settled back into encampment, he was sent off to Hurl Gate Fort on Long Island. 

The fort was in desperate need of assistance as the enemy produced heavy cannons and commenced relentless fire. 

It was a short affair as the British succeeded in the breach and Tallmadge was soon called away as General Washington ordered his army in motion to evacuate the city, surrendering it to the British as now the North and East were filled with British shipping of goods and fresh soldiers coming to join the incessant redcoats. 

“His Excellency fears that the British navy be blockading New York, thus isolating the city from the other states, resulting in a disastrous divide of the colonies and the control of the Hudson River” two aides de camps to Washington conversed on their horses in earshot of Tallmadge as the army continued to exit the imminent threat of the enemy in New York. 

“You speak with such bleak news, Harrison” The younger aide jests, “Bring us fairer news sir, the mood of the army will not be raised with such desolate facts” 

“Easy for you to say, Tilghman, you are not plagued by such ‘desolate facts’ as you claim; however, I am-”

“Aye, military secretary, yes old man we are aware of your position” Tilghman rolled his eyes, but clearly in an endearing jest. Harrison, presumably Washington’s military secretary, grumbled. 

“I only tease Harrison, Washington is truly overwhelmed by our” a pause, “Situation and is in dire need of a right-hand man”

“You are correct, His Excellency is in need of more aides that can eloquently suede and coerce congress to our needs and someone he can solely trust, he knows we are deeply devoted to him, but as he anticipates-” 

Tallmadge’s focus on Harrison and Tilghman’s conversation as someone clapped him on the back, startling him as he whipped around to find Caleb raising his eyebrows.

“Eavesdropping on the most esteemed General’s aide de camps? I didn’t know goody-two-shoes Tallboy would become a spy” Caleb chuckled as Tallmadge fell into step with him. 

“Spying? Is that what this is? I wasn’t aware of the desire to know where we’re going and perhaps some information on the British’s whereabouts be spying?” Tallmadge shot back, a grin creeping over his features.

“I guess some things never change,” Caleb remarked, mirth dancing in his eyes. 

“Elaborate!” Tallmadge took the bait, playfulness incredulously pricking in his tone. 

“I remember when you were just a lad, overly inquisitive and would not stop haranguing us with questions! You wanted to know everything about everything we did, said, what you saw” Tallmadge let out a laugh. 

“Well, I remember you being nearly a decade elder than me and” Tallmadge flushed, “All grown-up, mature, friends with Thomas and William, and all-knowing, which was slightly impressive to twelve years old me” 

“All-knowing? You must have been extremely unobservent Benny, you were always the smartest out of us all--destined for Yale greatness” Tallmadge could feel the heat of blush on his cheeks as Caleb winked at him from under his wide-brimmed hat. 

The hours trudged on with uneasy slowness, the cool fall weather much more enjoyable to Tallmadge’s last march in the summer with her humidity and unrelenting heat. 

All throughout Caleb and Tallmadge stayed by each other’s side, recollecting childhood memories swapping what they knew of their little hometown. 

Abraham Woodhull--the other lad that completed their trio was to be wed to Anna Smith, the independent, strong girl that added to the trio and made the quartet. 

The last Tallmadge had seen them, Judge Woodhull had his reservations about their courtship, but Abe and Anna were ready to wed. 

Then there were Thomas and William, the older boys, only a few shy years from Caleb, but prim and acting as if they were more mature than the others.

Even though Caleb was far close in age to Thomas and William, he had always stuck around with the younger children, inevitably becoming inseparable with Tallmadge, Abe, and Anna. 

A few skirmishes ensued, and Tallmadge’s brigade got a taste of the action. No serious casualties followed, but the Brigade Major: Major Wyllis, was made prisoner. 

Wyllis was an honorable and compassionate man in which the men took to, seeing him as a friend and also an authority figure. It was a loss for the brigade and left many wondering who would be fit to step up to his place. 

“Lieutenant Tallmadge!” A horse clopped over to him, General Wadsworth, a man with a hard face nodded toward Tallmadge to follow. 

“Sir?” Tallmadge steered his horse forward and into a walk beside Wadsworth. 

“You have heard of our Brigade Major, or lack thereof?” Straight to the point his intentions clear, Tallmadge sat up straight in his saddle. 

“Yes, Sir, allows me to offer my sympathy for his loss, he was a good Major” 

“He’s not dead yet Lieutenant Tallmadge, but this Brigade needs a replacement, you’re dedication and bravery on the field is admirable, but the men seem to look up to you, see you as an impressive figure” Tallmadge opened and closed his mouth.

“Sir”

“You will accept the station of Brigade Major?” something inside of Tallmadge fluttered in excitement. 

“Yes, sir” 

“Dismissed Major Tallmadge” Tallmadge fell behind, his chest swelling and heart rate increasing, an infectious smile overriding his determination for professionalism. 

_ Major Benjamin Tallmadge _ . He could get used to it. 

\--------

The army reached Harlem, making camp for a short period of time, letting the army rest its feet and for a military conference to take place, only known because of the loud shouts from the headquarters tent, distinguished voices of well known officers. 

Tallmadge, determined to step up to his newfound duties spent the night acquainting himself with the men, sharing a drink, and learning of their lives. 

As a former Lieutenant, he supposed that he should have familiarized himself with the men as well as the other duties Tallmadge most diligently completed, but with the newfound title of  _ Major _ , Tallmadge found himself wanting to be liked by his men. 

_ His _ men. 

Tallmadge had just bid a goodnight when he heard a particular sound, it was like the wind was calling his name but-

“Tallmadge?” no, it wasn’t the wind it was a man, flying through the camp, weaving in and out of tents, his voice merry deep, pale hair streaking behind him and-

“Ben!” it came again as the man barreled into Tallmadge, laughing. Tallmadge could see his features up close now. His crystal blue eyes shone as he tackled Tallmadge into a tight embrace. 

“Nathan Hale” Tallmadge breathed as he returned the hug twice as tight, inhaling Nathan’s familiar scent of warm rain and old parchment. Both men didn’t hesitate to rest their heads on the other’s shoulder. Tallmadge could practically feel Nathan’s happiness radiating from his skin. 

They pulled apart, Nathan clad in the Continental-rich blue. 

“So you took my advice and accepted commission?!” Tallmadge raised an eyebrow, his heart pounding and mind spinning. 

_ Nathan Hale was in front of him _ . 

Nathan laughed, a sound Tallmadge could listen to for days, like church bells. 

“I miss you too Damon” Nathan threw an arm around Tallmadge’s shoulders, directing him away from the gawking men. 

Tallmadge didn’t even notice Caleb’s hunched figure, his back turned and head down in his drink as he basked in Nathan’s warmth and return. 

_ His Pythias was here with him _ . 

Tallmadge’s blood thrummed as Nathan led him to an erected tent, so near Tallmadge’s own. 

Had Nathan been here all along? So close without him knowing?

“How long have you been here?” he asked, curiosity eating at him. Nathan shrugged. 

“Not long, I was in Boston for a while and only rejoined the main body a few days ago” They entered the tent. 

Tallmadge and Hale stood there for some time, drinking each other in, not speaking but just-

“The uniform suits you Major” Nathan teased eyes roving over Talkmadge’s figure just like a pair of dark chestnut eyes-

Why was he thinking of Caleb? Nathan was right here. 

Tallmadge dryly swallowed and crossed the distance between them to place a tentative hand over Nathan’s, just a brush, but as their hands made contact, Nathan carded his fingers through Tallmadge’s so they held each other. Clear blue locked on turquoise as Nathan’s gaze flickered down Tallmadge’s face, so briefly on his chin? Or lips. 

Tallmadge cleared his throat, his heart racing, body tense.

“Aye, Continental blue clearly suits you as well” Tallmadge managed to get out before Nathan’s face came crashing onto his own, the world blurring as he gasped into the kiss. 

Nathan’s lips were so  _ soft _ . 

As the kiss deepened, Nathan’s hand trailed up Tallmadge’s jaw and into his hair, freeing it from its plait and ribbon and running his deft fingers through Tallmadge’s golden locks, earning a soft sound of appreciation. 

They rid themselves of their coats, stripped down to waistcoats, no cravat so that Nathan can bend down and suck along Tallmadge’s jaw. 

“The army has made you even more beautiful, Damon” Nathan breathes, Tallmadge pulls his face up and cups it and kisses him again as Nathan leads Tallmadge over to the small cot, pulling him down, letting their noses brush and breath mingling. 

“It wasn’t a mistake then, was it?” Tallmadge whispered peering into Nathan’s dilated pupils. 

“Pardon?” 

“That night, it wasn’t a drunken mistake for do you truly want me? Or was-” Tallmadge didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as Nathan captured his lips once again quite fervently. 

“As if there was a world in which I wouldn’t desire you” Nathan’s gaze intense, zeroing in on Tallmadge, almost stern. Heat pooled in Tallmadge’s lower abdomen as he shifts over Nathan, their legs tangled around each other, Tallmadge leaning over Nathan. 

“Prove it” Tallmadge challenges, his voice low, almost a growl. He gleefully watched Nathan shift under him and then smirk, flipping Tallmadge over easily so now he is pinned under Nathan’s observant eyes. 

“Let’s see what you got, Hale” Tallmadge chokes out before Nathan slowly begins to undo him, letting him squirm and whine under his touch. 

It felt like hours before they both slept, entwined in each other’s arms, only a ragged blanket covering their torsos, bodies slack and satisfied.

Tallmadge’s nose is buried into Nathan’s neck as he half wonders why Nathan had only sought him out now before his mind succumbs to sleep. 

\--------

The men wonder why Tallmadge is in such a good mood as Tallmadge almost skips through the camp, wishing his men a good morning and promising a drink later. 

He seeks out Caleb this morning after completing his morning duties and drills. In his euphoria in the return of Nathan, he had utterly forgotten of his promise to drink throughout the night with Caleb. 

_ “I remember when you were eleven and threw up after one sip of ale” Caleb barked out a laugh as Tallmadge scoffed.  _

_ “I was  _ **_eleven_ ** _ and that ale was shite, I bet now I could outdrink you” Caleb clucked his tongue.  _

_ “Don’t be going off and biting more than you can chew Tallboy” A rush of heat crept up Tallmadge’s face in embarrassment.  _

_ “You should have seen me in college, would have changed your mind” Caleb tilted his head and then tilted his head _

_ “Are you challenging me, Major Tallmadge?”  _

_ “Tonight, your tent, whoever can last the longest without passing our or vomiting”  _

_ “Don’t back out Benny, this is the big leagues” _

_ “I promise” _

Tallmadge had woken up to the birds chirping, still wrapped up in Nathan’s warmth. He wished he could stay in bed all day with Nathan trading kisses, but soon he slipped out for his morning activities, a smile full of nothing less than pure, undiluted and unrestrained joy. 

_“This isn’t a dream right?” Nathan asked breathlessly_ _as dawn approaches_

_ “Aye, I too wonder it a dream as my drunken memories are quite hazy, and could almost doubt myself thinking it ‘twas my imagination making up how you felt beneath me” Tallmadge answers between kisses.  _

_ “I dictate that this is not a dream for in a bliss such as this, I would not think that the morning approaches so quickly that I have to leave you soon to attend to my duties” _

_ “Always so dedicated Major Tallmadge” Nathan teases as Tallmadge tilts his head up for another kiss.  _

“Caleb?” Tallmadge asks as Caleb throws his tomahawk, landing perfecting into the tree bark, in the center of one of the bark’s old rings. 

It had always been a wonder how direct and precise Caleb could be, never missing a target. 

“Tallmadge! Didn’t see you retire back to your tent last night, was Hale holding you hostage?” Caleb jested but something was off. He never called Tallmadge ‘Ben’. It was always Benny, Benny boy, Tallboy, Major Tallmadge, or even just Ben. Tallmadge alone sounded too formal, too forced. 

“I haven’t had the chance to see Nathan in over a year, only exempt to his words through letters, but I do realize now that I most insensitive left you without explanation, and for this I beg you accept my apologies” Tallmadge fidgeted nervously, his words dancing around with flowery language, an anxious habit any of his friends could spot a mile away. 

Caleb let out a harsh laugh as he retrieved his tomahawk. 

“No worries Benny, I’d like to get to know your Nathan, buy him a drink sometime and learn all about your college extravagants” 

_ Your Nathan.  _ It sent warm tingles down Tallmadge’s spine, yet the words coming out of Caleb’s mouth seemed so… wrong. 

Caleb flashed him a smile, which should have put Tallmadge at ease, but actually made him more uneasy. 

“Then allow me to properly introduce you, I know Nathan had expressed interest in meeting you when I had mentioned our childhood adventures” Caleb shifted on his feet, his hat casting shadows over his face, pulled into a cheery expression, yet forced. 

“It’s alright Tallboy, I don’t want to be interrupting you two, which-”

“Nonsense” Tallmadge cut Caleb off. “Nathan said there was a tavern near-”

“Ben! It’s alright, I have things to do, you have your Major-ly duties to attend to, I accept your uncalled-for apology so get outta here” Caleb joked, laughing but the smile not quite reaching his eyes. Reluctantly, Tallmadge crosses back to the other side of the camp where his tent is erected mere feet from Nathan’s. 

He ponders Caleb’s odd behavior, tracing it back to anything he could have said wrong. 

Had Nathan offended him at one time? Had  _ he _ unintentionally offended Caleb?

That forced tone and flighty nature were not the Caleb Tallmadge knew. That sort of unusual behavior only arose when Caleb became uncomfortable, which was few times around Tallmadge only when-

Oh. 

The thought of clarity comes to Tallmadge. 

Every moment that this awkward behavior presented itself in Caleb was when Tallmadge would talk about his Yale studies, or his college friends, practically anything to do with his education. 

Could Caleb be jealous? 

No. Caleb had never been like that. 

_ “Don’t go forgetting all of us here when you become a genius at Yale with smart-pants friends and status that’s way beyond little old Setauket here” _

Tallmadge almost cursed. He would have never thought in all his time knowing Caleb, that he would be  _ insecure _ . 

Tallmadge was about to turn on his heel and go back after Caleb when Nathan approached him, a glint in his eyes that made every other thought dissipate. 

The next day Tallmadge spent his time with Nathan, reliving their Yale days and casually touching each other when no one was looking.

_ This is how it should be _ . Something in the back of Tallmadge’s mind hummed as Nathan pressed kisses down his neck in that late evening. 

“I missed you” Tallmadge murmurs, tilting his head back, exposing his neck for better access. 

“And I, you, your words on paper were not enough like we thought it would be” Nathan sighs as Tallmadge lightly pulls his pale hair. 

Tallmadge had realized this also, and his joining the Continentals had also been in pursuit to see Nathan again before he perished in battle. 

For the rebels, the war was not starting in their favor, the British hyper aware of their movements through the unglorified work of spies and General Washington desperately needing intelligence on the enemy before they unexpectedly struck. 

As far as Tallmadge had known, Nathan had not been in the York City summer encampment and only rejoined the main body of the army recently as Washington-

Tallmadge curses, causing Nathan to lift his head. 

“Pythias,” Tallmadge asks tentatively, fearing the answer. “You didn’t volunteer to spy for General Washington, did you?” It was known throughout the camp that Washington had asked for a volunteer to embark on a dangerous mission to collect intelligence: spy work. Most of the men Tallmadge had heard had proclaimed that no one had volunteered and that most soldiers proclaimed it dirty and dishonorable. 

Nathan paused and then stood up straight, eerily quiet. 

“Nathan?” Tallmadge asks again but using his Christian name. There was a silent agreement between them that their given names were used in moments of the utmost seriousness. 

“Please tell me that you didn’t volunteer” Nathan cleared his throat and nodded. 

“ _ Christ _ ” Tallmadge curses as Nathan meets his eyes, a storm brewing inside in clear blue. 

“It is necessary for me to go through with this, no other man will volunteer and I can-”

“You could be hanged!” Tallmadge cried out, his chest constricting and anger bubbling. 

“And you could be shot! The risks weigh each other out in both situations because we both be fighting for our country, our freedom!” Nathan shoots back, never backing down, almost challenging Tallmadge. 

Their shouting matches whilst in Yale could be heard from across the campus, but each was quick to forgive. 

Tallmadge will no,  _ cannot _ have his best friend go and spy behind enemy territory. 

“You’re my best friend! I cannot lose you to a rope!” Tallmadge yells, his face heating. 

“I need to do this! It could change the whole war, having someone out there relaying information back to Washington!” 

“Why you?!” Tallmadge fumes, “This does not hold any sort of honor may I remind you, a soldier may slaughter on the battlefield because  _ that is war _ , but a spy” Tallmadge throws his hands up incredulously. 

“I will not see you hanged because of your insufferable morals!” Tallmadge’s voice cracks as he imagines Nathan, swaying in the wind, purple face and broken necked. He waves the image away, but his brain catalogs it for later. 

Nathan tilts his head and then sighs, lifting his hand to cup Tallmadge’s cheek, tracking a circular pattern under Tallmadge’s eye with his thumb. Tallmadge leans into the touch as Nathan ducks and kisses Tallmadge, deep and slow, capturing his lips again and again and again. 

“Alright you fool, I’ll stay,” he says in between kisses. Something inside Tallmadge’s brain wishes to question this further, Nathan is not the type to submit so quickly and back down, but as Nathan shifts so he creates friction against Tallmadge, any doubts fly to the back of Tallmadge’s mind as he lets himself be lost in Nathan's passion. 

Tallmadge’s unconsciousness slowly becomes aware as sunlight beams through the cracks in his tent, stopping him from going back to sleep. 

He rolls over onto the other side of the empty cot. 

The empty cot. 

Tallmadge frowned as he recollected the events of the night before. Hadn’t Nathan and he fell asleep in each other’s arms?

Why hadn’t Nathan woken him if he left so early? 

To prove to himself that last night hadn’t in fact been a dream, Tallmadge pressed his nose to the pillow inhaling Nathan’s distinguished scent among Tallmadge’s. 

With a yawn, Tallmadge started to dress letting his mind wander to the night before, darkened and quiet with stifled whimpers and-

“Major Tallmadge” A voice from outside his tent called just as Tallmadge had slipped on his coat. He opened the tent flap to see a Lieutenant Colonel--one of Washington’s aide de camps with a letter in hand. 

“Captain Hale requested I give this to you after his departure” The Lieutenant Colonel handed Tallmadge's letter and then briskly turned on his heel, striding away and leaving Tallmadge in confusion. 

_ His departure? _

Tallmadge entered his tent, unfolding the parchment, Nathan’s handwriting distinct as cold dread filled him. 

Tallmadge scanned the first few lines, panic seeping in, his mind racing. 

No. 

No. 

No. 

_ I owe this much to my country to undertake this mission, no matter how dangerous, so I beg that you accept my apologies for lying to you--I know you wouldn’t give in.  _

Tallmadge cursed and ran outside, searching upon the rows of tents. 

It had only been two days, but Tallmadge had memorized where Nathan’s tent had been erected. A wide space was all that was left now. 

_ I promise of a return to you, for my sentiments were made clear and I swear that I shall not abandon you, ever, my dear Damon _ . 

Tallmadge pursed his lips into a thin line. 

He would come back when it was over. No need to say goodbye, for his return was promised. 

He would come back. 

He promised to come back. 

He  **_would_ ** come back. 

Tallmadge steadied his breathing as surety and conviction settled over him. 

Nathan Hale would live. 

And if he didn’t… Tallmadge wouldn’t know what to do. 

\--------

Putting the dramatics of his personal affairs aside, Tallmadge threw himself into his newfound duties as Major, hoping that the worry for Nathan would be drowned out in the busy nature of tasks. 

Battle seemed to be on the horizon, and the quiet frenzy in preparation for battle invaded the camp, resulting in alertness in the men. There were whispers throughout the camp of General Washington’s confidence of a victory, some say it was because the British were getting predictable, their tactics no longer a secret, but others claimed it was a spy, somewhere behind enemy territory relaying information back to headquarters. 

Tallmadge prayed every night for Nathan’s safety and speedy return, but as the spirits of the camp rose, pride swelled in his chest. 

Nathan and he had always talked about making a difference, creating a legacy and being remembered after their death--they had always been an ambitious duo wanting to leave their mark.

Tallmadge just hoped that Nathan would be able to play the party of a tory well, for both of them, especially Nathan was a true patriot and was alway ready to fight for his beliefs. 

No, Tallmadge prayed that Nathan wouldn’t give himself away. 

The next couple of days in the Harlem Heights camp dragged by slowly, and especially with Caleb’s odd behavior not ceasing. 

_ “Wait until the army settles for Winter encampment,” _ some of his men told him,  _ “It’s all just waiting around like this” _ Nonetheless, Tallmadge was going to go mad if this kept up, so screw giving Caleb distance, they were going to settle this  _ now _ . 

With Nathan, sometimes their petty disagreements would last days, but Tallmadge had never truly fought with Caleb. 

Or whatever this was. 

It was almost worse than a quarrel, this extreme politeness, and dancing around each other. 

“Alright Brewster” Tallmadge storms into Caleb’s tent. Fortunately, none of his bunkmates were around, so he found Caleb laying on his back, sharpening his beloved tomahawk and alone. 

“Tell me what’s going on or I swear I’ll be driven insane” Caleb near jumps as Tallmadge aggressively makes his entrance, hands on his hips. 

“Uh-what?” Tallmadge sighs and repeats himself, his tone no less stern or passion filled than the first time. 

“Driven insane by what, Ben you’re talking in riddles” Tallmadge grunts in frustration and then cuts straight to the point. 

“Ever since Nathan appeared you’ve been acting quite strange, hell, anytime I mention Yale, Nathan, or my education you bottle yourself up like-”

“Oh don’t use that flowery language that you know I can barely decipher” Caleb snaps, and ultimately confirms Tallmadge's suspicions. 

“So that’s what this is all about” Tallmadge cruelly muses, his bubbling anger, frustration and worry all coming out. “You’re  _ jealous _ ” 

Tallmadge meant for it to be a harsh jest, but there is one expression all humans wear when they’ve been caught, and with Caleb sputtering Tallmadge realizes that he has just hit the nail on the head. 

“Caleb” Tallmadge raises an eyebrow, almost incredulous. “You’re not envious of Nathan and I?” Up until this moment, Tallmadge would have thought, without a doubt, that Caleb would say no, truthfully, but now he wasn’t so sure what the answer would be. 

“Oh forgive me Mr. Brilliant, I thought you were a Yale man but apparently all that time away has created unfamiliarity between us” Tallmadge flinched as Caleb sprung to his feet, his dark eyes surprisingly cold. 

“So let me spell it out for you: I knew you as a gangly and curious boy and then you go off to your fancy little collage, become way smarter than I could ever be, get  _ new, smarter _ ,  _ more useful _ friends that replace-”

“Lieutenant Brewster!” A boy, barely a man rushed into the tent, cutting Caleb off. 

“Lieutenant Brewster! You have been summoned by your Captain to join your brigade! The British are advancing on us!” The boy breathlessly recites, causing Caleb’s eyes to widen and then grab his discarded coat. 

“We're not finished here Ben Tallmadge” he wagged his finger at Tallmadge and disappeared through the flaps of the tent. The boy turned to follow but Tallmadge held his arm, bending down. 

“Who else was summoned?” The boy prattled off names of regiments and brigades, but to Tallmadge’s disappointment, he would not be joining the action. 

There was an itch under Tallmadge’s skin. He needed to do  _ something _ . Punch  _ someone _ . Let out the restless energy churning beneath his skin. 

Cheers rang out through the camp as the Continentals took their first major victory at Harlem Heights, managing to chase the British’s troops away. The British took their losses and retreated, but taunted the army playing “Gone away” a tune that one plays after a victorious fox hunt--ultimately insulting the Continentals and their retreat from York City. 

However, somehow, Washington had expected the British to attempt an attack on their camp and had already prepared one hundred fifty rangers to hold them off as regiments and brigades were summoned. 

As the troops marched back to camp, Tallmadge’s heart seemed to be squeezed as he searched the lines of tired, but high-spirited men. 

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding when he spotted Caleb, bloody tomahawk in hand, his hair windswept and a cheek-splitting grin spread across his face. 

Tallmadge celebrated with the men, toasting to freedom and victory, his good spirits not even lowered when Caleb refused to talk to him. 

\--------

It had almost been a week since the Continentals' victory at Harlem Heights, and the camp was preparing to move, yet again, as General Washington received rumoured  _ intelligence _ , that the British was preparing to cross Westchester. 

Their small victory could not ignore the fact that the British had invaded Manhattan, and predictably the enemy would soon have control of the whole island. 

On the twentieth of September, the camp received the somber news that the enemy had set fire to the city. 

Tallmadge paid twicefold that night that Nathan had been playing the part of Tory sympathizer, Dutch school teacher well. 

On the morning of the twenty-second murmurs throughout the camp were spread. Soldiers sat whispering in little huddles, even some of the officers looked glum. 

Tallmadge saw General Washington’s shadow pacing the length of his tent. 

“Excuse me, but whatever be the unusual rumors these men are affected by?” Tallmadge asks a clump of men as they exchange pointed looks at the Headquarters tent. 

“Nothing Major, just rumors as you proclaimed” Talkmadge frowned at the man, his thumbs twiddling. 

“Sir, I ask you again as you take note of your superior inquiring the contents of this rumour--true or false I should like to be informed” Tallmadge repeated, putting an edge into his voice. 

Something Caleb called his  _ officer's voice _ . 

Caleb hadn’t even looked in Tallmadge’s direction since he was summoned to battle. 

Tallmadge will have to sort that out soon. It was extremely strange to be at odds with Caleb. 

The man coughed and then. 

“A man, a Patriot sympathizer, a rumored spy, was hung in New York this morning” Tallmadge’s blood froze as his brain registered these words. 

“Has the man’s name been verified yet?” his voice sounds echoey, far away. 

“Nay, but General Washington is rumored to be making a statement later before our moving of camp” Tallmadge nodded and walks away, his legs not quite feeling his own, his body moving without thought. 

Robotic movement. 

Right step, left step. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Darkness pricked at Tallmadge’s eyes as he passed the place where Nathan’s tent used to be. 

No. ‘Twas just a rumor. Talk of the man. A lie spread by the British to put Washington on edge. 

‘Twas just a rumor. 

‘Twas just a rumor. 

Tallmadge could feel like shallow breaths even out, but cold dread seemed to seep through the cracks of his facade. 

Nathan was alive. 

_ Please, God, you have been so kind to me throughout the ages, but I ask one favor, please keep Nathan safe and alive. Please let him be alive.  _

Tallmadge sends a quick prayer, just as his father taught him. 

He wouldn’t put it past God if his prayer went unnoticed, for the list of his committed sins was a mile long. 

_ I will devote myself to you, keep your name and word always, just please let Nathan be alive.  _

“Major Tallmadge?” A voice, muffled from the wall of canvas came, breaking Tallmadge’s thoughts. 

He opened the flap to see one of his men, lower-ranking, a private? 

Yes, Private Nathaniel Smith. 

“Private?” He asks wearily, his voice stiff and rough. 

“His Excellency has requested the presence of the camp for an address” Tallmadge nodded curtly, following the private where a large crowd stood outside of Headquarters, Washington’s aides standing outside and whispering to one another, their lips pressed into a thin line and cloaks black. 

Luckily, with his height, Tallmadge was able to see over most of the crowed, to watch General Washington appear before the army, a hush falling over the assembled. 

His presence radiated authority, but his eyes were kind. 

“We have fought through oppression, time and time again, the most honorable men giving their lives for our dutiful cause” His voice rang out over silence

“This is only the beginning of our quest for freedom, and always there will be a price” Tallmadge’s heart thumped in his chest, Washington’s words bouncing around his skull. 

“As you know, Captain Nathan Hale had volunteered to gather intelligence behind enemy lines” 

_ “And he has succeeded and will be returning soon, this gathering is for a celebration of the knowledge he has managed to acquire”  _ Tallmadge could almost hear Washington say. He would say. Nathan was alive. They would celebrate his homecoming soon. 

“He was stationed in Long Island, and managed to transfer many pieces of valuable intelligence to us--without him, many of us would not be breathing at this moment” Tallmadge’s heart tightened in his chest. 

_ Please _ . He begged silently. 

“However, when the British invaded Manhattan, the regulars were out on high alert for Patriot sympathizers. Last night, Captain Hale was caught sailing from the Long Island sound, trying to reach our territory, as I summoned him back to the main body of our army, in fear of discovery” The world fell from under Tallmadge as his breathing became shallow, harsh. 

A thousand possibilities ran through his head. They were just as sound as reality: they had negotiated for his exchange, he had outrun the bastards, he had-

“He was interrogated, but it was fruitless as they discovered incriminating documents, carrying extremely sensitive information about the movements of British troops, ultimately giving himself away” Washington took a deep breath just as the air was stolen from Tallmadge's breast. 

He could not move. 

Could not blink, breathe. He wanted to yell, scream, cry out! Tallmadge was frozen in his place as Washington tightened the black cloak around his shoulders. 

No officer would wear such a heavy coat in this weather, for fear of sweating through uniform. 

“I am extremely sorrowed to say that of this morning, Captain Nathan Hale drew his last breath before being hung in the gallows. His last words are for you--the army and freedom he fought for: ‘I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country’” Washington goes on, but the sound is somehow muffled as the only sound Tallmadge can hear clearly is his own breath and thundering heartbeat. 

_ “I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country”  _ parallel to  _ Cato _

_ “What a pity it is that we can die but once to serve our country” Cato _ had always been a favorite of Nathan’s, his passion for the play rubbing off on Tallmadge, as they frequently quoted it and was said by the leading actor of the show, when it came to their town, that they had bought each show out, seeing it several times a week. 

Nathan--Pythias. He was supposed to live. He was-

Tallmadge should have, as his best friend and Damon he should have-

This be his fault. 

His fault. 

_ His fault.  _

Nathan was  _ dead _ . The words reverberated in his skull. 

The crowd started to disperse, but Tallmadge was rooted in his place. 

Gentle Nathan, kind Natha, generous Nathan, smart Nathan. Perfect Christian, perfect student, perfect  _ friend _ . 

Tallmadge’s lips throbbed where Nathan had kissed him last. 

His head burned.

_ Please _ . He begged a God that did not listen.  _ Just one more touch, one more kiss, one more embrace, one more laugh, one more- _

A sobb escaped his throat, ripping through his chest, pulling him under the dark waves. He tried screaming as panic washed over him, drowning him suffocating his lungs, oh God please no-

“Ben?” A soft voice from a distance pulled Tallmadge back to the grassy camp. He was kneeling. 

He didn’t remember falling. 

A single tear wet his cheeks. 

He was a terrible Damon. 

“Ben?” The voice came again, anchoring him. He looked up to see warm brown eyes and dark curly hair, so different from the pure blond, soft strands and crystal blue eyes that sparkled with mischief and love. 

_ I promise of a return to you, for my sentiments were made clear and I swear that I shall not abandon you, ever, my dear Damon _ . 

Tallmadge sobbed again, curling in on himself, pushing his nails into his palms, drawing blood. 

It hurt. 

Good. 

Tallmadge shut out the scratchy voice as he let himself recede into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oUCH. mmmm do I regret it? No. Did I hurt myself while writing this? very much so. Am i thriving while writing extreme angst? Hell yes!
> 
> Updates are aimed for 1-2 weeks, I went full-on try-hard mode with this one because I just needed to get it over with asap (thinking about Nathan Hale's death night and day is mentally and emotionally exhausting). 
> 
> See if you can spot prequel and hamilton references in this one! I also have mad foreshaodwing in this so who picked up on that? I know I sound rambly, but I wanna know who screamed when Tilghman and Harrison showed up, cause I know I did. 
> 
> Sources:  
> https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/nathan-hale-volunteers-to-spy-behind-british-lines  
> Memoir of Col. Benjamin Tallmadge  
> https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/battle-of-harlem-heights/  
> http://www.ouramericanrevolution.org/index.cfm/people/view/pp0057
> 
> Big thanks to everyone on the amrev discord server! I was super unmotivated to write this and my commitment issues wanted me to abandon this but the support I've received on this is truly unexpected, so I give huge hugs to everyone who has unintentionally made me bust my ass to my computer and finish this update :)
> 
> aLso I realized there are a lot of historical plot holes in my prequel and first update (*cough cough* william tallmadge and anna strong/smith *cough cough*) so if you find them, please ignore, I'm working on it lols. 
> 
> The amount of research I'm doing for this fic is astronomical so leave a comment about anything that's inaccurate or what I can improve on! 
> 
> I'm on tumblr! Check out my profile @crazychloe08

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone who has been patiently waiting for this to finally be posted on my Tumblr, this first chapter is dedicated to you, all the support I've gotten on there is so incredible and surprising!
> 
> I'm also not sure if I'm pacing this right, so let me know if I'm going to fast/slow (I know I crammed a lot of stuff in at the last moment, don't worry I'm not done with what I left off with).
> 
> A few notes about historical accuracy: some say that Tallmadge joined the army 1775 and some say 1776. I am going off of his memoir (I advise you to check it out! It's so helpful!) so 1776 it is! I know Caleb was a messenger during Battle of Long Island, so I took artistic liberty here and there. Everything else was completely based off of true histoical events and movements (which I proudly researched). 
> 
> Sources:  
> Memoir of Col. Benjamin Tallmade  
> https://www.britannica.com/biography/Benjamin-Tallmadge  
> https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/benjamin-tallmadge/  
> https://bportlibrary.org/hc/historical-accounts/caleb-brewster-in-the-revolutionary-war/#:~:text=He%20acted%20as%20intelligence%20gatherer,had%20fleet%20of%20three%20whaleboats.
> 
> I am always trying to improve my writing so comment what you liked and what I can improve on!
> 
> I'm on tumblr! For updates on this fic and other fun stuff, go check my profile out @crazychloe08


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